Chapter 863

Rosalind left after one phone call?

Lucian's brows knitted together, his jaw tightening. "Did you catch who called her?"

Nathaniel shook his head apologetically. "I'm afraid not, sir."

"Understood. Dismissed."

As Nathaniel exited, Lucian strode to the floor-to-ceiling windows, his fingers absently adjusting his cufflinks. Rosalind had promised to wait in his office—they'd made dinner plans. She'd agreed. Yet she'd vanished.

After finally reuniting last night, the thought of separation now was unbearable.

His phone screen illuminated as he typed:

[Where are you?]

The send button went unpressed when his phone rang.

"Who is this?" His voice was ice.

"Mr. Graves," came the smug reply. "It's Julian."

Lucian's expression darkened. "Blackwood. To what do I owe this... pleasure?"

Julian's chuckle grated. "Looking for Rosalind, by any chance?"

A muscle twitched in Lucian's jaw. "Is she with you?"

"Indeed. We're enjoying a rather intimate lunch."

Rosalind. With Julian.

Lucian's laugh was razor-sharp. "You're lying."

"Come see for yourself," Julian taunted. "Though I should warn you—she looks radiant today. That glow women get after being thoroughly—"

"Enough." Lucian's grip threatened to shatter the phone.

"—satisfied," Julian continued, undeterred. "I know you two reconnected last night, but let's not pretend three years apart didn't happen. She spent those years in my bed. Our current... disagreements don't erase history."

A pause, then venomous sweetness: "She still arches that perfect back when she comes, doesn't she? That breathy little gasp—"

"Shut your filthy mouth!" Lucian's fist collided with the wall, paint cracking under his knuckles.

Julian's laughter was triumphant. "Touch a nerve? I'd stay and chat, but our appetizers just arrived. Do give my regards to Chelsea."

The line went dead.

Lucian stood trembling, his breathing ragged. The office walls seemed to pulse with his rage.

"Nathaniel!"

His assistant appeared instantly, paling at Lucian's expression—a tempest given human form.

"Find them. Now. I want their exact location within five minutes."

Nathaniel vanished.

Lucian tore at his collar, oxygen suddenly scarce. He needed to see her. Needed to—

"Found them." Nathaniel reappeared, phone in hand. "Sent the coordinates."

Lucian was already moving, car keys gleaming in his white-knuckled grip.

Across town, Rosalind sat across from Julian at La Belle Époque, sunlight glinting off their wine glasses. Her fingers tightened around her napkin.

"Let's try this again," she said coolly. "What really happened to Lucian's face?"

Julian smirked, swirling his merlot. "Patience, darling. The entrée hasn't even arrived."